As It Should Be
by Anonyme
Summary: They are both haunted by beauty.


Title: As It Should Be

Author: Becky

Rating: M (probably overdoing it with this rating, but best err on the side of caution)

Characters and Pairings: Ten/Rose

Spoilers: Doomsday and I guess for S-4

Genre: Angst

Summary: They are both haunted by beauty.

Disclaimer: In no way, shape, or form are they mine.

A/N: This is for the Dec. Time and Chips Picture prompts. Picture #18.

She'd been to Paris many times in the three years she'd lived in Pete's world (she still couldn't call it home) and each time she made sure she made one stop, no matter how brief the visit.

She stood in front of the sculpted white marble; taken back to the first time she'd seen this properly. It was just after the incident on Krop-Tor and the Doctor had brought her to see it barely a month after it had been put on display because he said she needed a reminder of all the beauty that existed in the universe.

On the way into the Salon, he'd explained about the idea behind the sculpture and she'd told him proudly that she knew all about it. She'd even told him that she'd seen pictures. He'd just smiled at that as he led her into the gallery where the sculpture was displayed. She'd been just about to say something else about the pictures when the crowd thinned and she got her first glimpse. She remembered clearly how she'd silently stood in awe at the beauty before her.

Even the Doctor had been oddly silent at that point as he took her hand and pulled her just a bit closer. They stood there, well she was never sure how long since she'd always had a way of losing track of time when she was with him, but it was dark when they were finally ushered away from the sculpture.

They'd walked back to the TARDIS in silence and once inside, she'd been surprised when she'd turned to ask him a question and he'd pulled her to him and proceeded to kiss her thoroughly. When he pulled back to allow her to breathe, she couldn't remember her question. And then he leaned in and kissed her again and it hadn't mattered in the least as he walked her up the ramp and down a corridor.

He'd stopped outside his bedroom and looked at her questioningly. She'd simply nodded and then they were inside and clothes were shed and bodies were explored. No words had been needed and none had been spoken.

Rose mentally shook herself as she hugged herself tightly. She really shouldn't keep doing this, but there were days when she felt like she was losing her memories of him, when she felt that last glimmer of hope of ever returning to him dim. Even though she had her family and even a few friends, those memories and that little bit of hope were what kept her going.

She let her gaze flicker over the marble once more as she felt her resolve strengthen again. She'd get back. She would. And the first, well, okay, maybe the second thing they'd do when she got back home would be to go see this again. The two of them, side-by-side, holding hands, the way it should be.

The Doctor stood at the back of the gallery watching as the couple approached the sculpture. He watched as the man drew the woman closer to him, neither of them speaking. He continued to study the pair until the crowd had thinned to the point where he had to go. Wasn't good when you caught yourself staring at, well, yourself.

He knew he needed to stop this. He did. But he just couldn't help himself. As long as he left before being noticed, no damage would come from this. He walked back to the TARDIS as the memories of what had happened when they'd reached the ship played through his mind, tormenting him.

He let himself inside, draping his coat over a support column as he made his way up the ramp. As he put the TARDIS back into the Vortex, he remembered the feel of her lips on his, the way her breath hitched as he took in her naked form, the way her skin felt under his fingers as he explored her for the first time, the completion he felt when they were joined.

He let his head drop to his chest as he remembered how hard it had been to leave Rose asleep in his bed, but it had been so worth it when he saw the look on her face as he handed her a small replica of the marble masterpiece. She'd just beamed at him and then she'd hugged him tightly.

Later, as they'd lain in bed snuggled against each other, she'd asked him more about the story, slightly unsettled by the sad nature to the lovers' story. He'd tried humour to reassure her at first but when that hadn't worked, he'd simply told her that it was a story. Then he'd started trailing a finger down her side and the discussion had been forgotten.

He stepped back from the console and sat heavily on the jump seat, chastising himself for doing this yet again. None of his other selves had had this problem when a companion left. Then again, he thought, Rose hadn't been just any other companion. Oh, they'd all been special in their own ways, but Rose had been more than that. She'd been brilliant.

The Doctor growled angrily and jumped up moving around the console frantically. He'd told her it would be impossible for her to come back. Somewhere in his despair at her loss, he'd forgotten that he did impossible every day. Somehow, someway, he was going to make the impossible possible.

And when they were back together, the first thing, well maybe the second he amended, would be to go back and stand before that statue. Together, the way they were supposed to be.

Three years, eleven months, fifteen days, 4 hours, 47 minutes, and 10 seconds later Rose Tyler stood outside the Musée Rodin her fingers laced through the Doctor's as they waited to get inside. It hadn't been the first thing they'd done when they'd found each other again. Hadn't even been the second as it turned out. It was somewhere around the tenth, but they were here. Together. Holding hands. As they should be.


End file.
